Obscurity of the Anonymous Type
by ToBeAJabberwocky
Summary: A business venture turns into the start of something unexpected between half-bloods in a pureblood setting. No room for names. No room for emotions. Just room for the money, banquet halls, and a stellar new product. *Let me know if you want another chapter*
1. Chapter 1

**The Obscurity of the Anonymous Sort**

If it hadn't been for Lucius there most likely wouldn't be a story.

Isn't that a strange feeling….? To be complimenting such a light on someone so evil.

If it hadn't been for Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape would have never been attending such an event. A room full of suit-ties and decorated robes that slipped over the dance floor without touching it. An event that called for high collars and tightly fastened edges. The building is a museum and the event takes place in the red-carpeted, wooden paneled function hall. Lucius was at his best so of course, Severus would be as well. His tie is the half-blood presence of black monochrome off a soft black and dark green dress robes of traditional fashion. Monochrome isn't a fashion here and it's been mentioned a few times now, all favorably. He does it because he's not one of them, and this is his subtle hint to that.

He tied his own shoelaces before left his home. He passes the plate to the cabinet by hand. He will never be like those around him who live their lives on magic and ease. And neither would she…. _She_ was on the podium which was right where she belonged…. In an open cubical advertising her own product right under the glass dome ceiling that cast the perfect light to watch her without what she was showing reflecting back into your eyes. Lucius was here to buy into business and stocks and Severus was just to attend and do what he would but from that point on, he would only be there for _her_.

" _A man after my own mind."_

She had projected this towards him with a flick of her eye and without a miss of her words as she spoke her speech aloud to the audience who watched her intently. Her product was something Lucius would never be interested in but for him, was a claim that grabbed his attention immediately.

On the wooden table she had laid a gun. A muggle gun.

"Advanced with an inlay core..." She'd explain.

A rifle. The exact brand he doesn't know but it's a solid black, angry looking rifle.

".. and with the power of wandless magic.."

It had to look scary, he notes as he takes his place before the booth with a straight-faced, thin lipped Lucius in tow.

"With the pull of the trigger…!"

These magic kind wouldn't take old fashion muggle anything seriously….

"You wouldn't believe this power."

And this tactic was paying off.

He could feel the heat of Lucius as the man bit his tongue, controlling the urge to insult the half-blood, so he talks first.

He leans back, "What happened the last time I showed interest?"

This would silence the rattle of the snake, and Lucius would fall back and try to pay attention.

In all truth, the idea was sublime... but it was a subject that wouldn't really affect the life of Lucius. The man was not a military man. He was not mixing magic and muggle in everyday life, type of man. He's a man who had spent very little time around guns in his entire life and Severus couldn't blame him for the disinterest.

"You go on." He releases his friend who gives a huff and walks away rather quickly.

"Halfbloods….." He'd hear the blond mutter.

He ignores this comment as Lucius retreats and returns his attention to the cubicle where the woman is now closing up and taking questions from the badge-wearing officers standing around him. I.W.P agents, Aurors, and like-minded investors surrounded, and for the first time, he noticed the glances. No wonder Lucius was impatient; now that he noticed the type of crowd, he immediately felt the push to leave as well. People like he and Lucius had no place showing interest in weaponry such as this... and he knew there would be a note somewhere in some official paperwork stored away because he stayed.

" _I think I'll go for lunch after this…."_

The sudden airy voice waves through the space like the ghost-cry of a child in a crowd. He barely hears it but hears her nonetheless. Legilimency. He'd glance her way and their eyes would meet and hold for just a moment of silence as he raises his glass and takes a sip of his amber alcohol that burns his throat. Just as quickly, and again just as fluidly, their eyes drop and Severus turns and walks away.

Daring... is what he'd call her as he made his circle around the function hall to take longer, allowing her time to buy and settle in a seat he assumed he'd join her in. To pass a message through a space of security; a message he assumed was just for him. The actions were in itself…..foolish. Or was it? His circle began to close and he had yet to see Lucius when that usually wasn't the case. They could usually find each other quite quickly, but no, not this time... It didn't matter though, he landed on this passive state of mind as he neared the large double doors that lead to the other showrooms and cafe, but he'd give one more look out into the area before turning and starting out of the hall. He'd at least give Lucius that much.

Carpet lanes on marble floors. White walls and bright portraits and statues. Floor touching windows with heavy, floor touching drapes. No house elves, those who carried trays were hired, finely dressed waitstaff of people that more resembled himself than the people who passed by him in the hall. He passed the richest individuals he'd ever meet in his entire life and would shake hands with the manicured hands of the most exquisite woman he'd ever touch the skin of. Eventually though, he's down the hall and walking into a glass-paneled cafe with a kitchen and buffet setups among scattered roundtable sets.

" _You came."_

He hears her voice in the space between his ears but when he looks around he can't find her.

" _When you find me you should tell me, that in this light I remind you of an angel."_

He smirks at the nothing. A rare event, even rarer with women.

He'll soon find her though, sitting alone at a double set table right by the windows overlooking the sculpture garden. Indeed the sun shines on her in an almost angelic way, and if he could, he'd say the words she wants to hear. But he won't, because he's just not that kind of man. She's looking at him as he approaches, even when she takes a bit of the salad that sits before her. He remains calm. Straight-faced. Pose. His brow is tightened, but he attempts to cool his constant simmer. He has a responsibility to be something he's not, something more like Lucius and less like this woman.

Her ankles are crossed under the seat. Her elbows are on the table, her thin fingers are laced and placed so she's blocking her expression but her cheeks tell of what she's hiding. A smile. She watches him with a stare that flashes like a fox as her legs twitch back and forth on their toe like it's flickering tail. She's teasing him, drawing him in.. Something very Slytherin and reflecting his own green bleeding veins.

It's when he finally lands by the table and his feet are placing together does his arms wrap around his back when he realizes he doesn't know what to say. He was never invited, he was informed. He was never officially welcomed, just noticed. He didn't know her name and knew nothing beyond the end of a performance. He wasn't asked to sit, so he'd stand above her. He'd watch her hands break apart and drop around the coffee mug that sat by her nearly empty plate of sandwich foods and leafy salad side.

"You remind me of a shadow."

Her first words… and he didn't know how to feel about them. Was she dismissing him? Was she mocking him? Well, she wouldn't be mocking him... He was a supposed buyer and she was an…. Antripunure… Here, they were worlds apart in a world where he was the Lucius to the lesser form. He likes this feeling he notices, but he's still thankful for her sun-bright smile as she shakes her head and takes a sip from her cup.

"Sit down, will you?" She motions with her hand. "After too long, this turns into more of a murder creepy feel than a secret meet up."

He pauses.

"Secret meet up?" His response is more or less just him repeating her last three words just so that he can say something at all.. A tactic he learned and a tactic that often worked out in his favor.

"Yesssss," She smiles as she picks up a potato fry while he lowers himself into the seat across from her. "You, a strange man worth so much more than me, willingly arrive here at this table after a randomly sudden, suddenly amazing conversation of secrets within the most powerful and official of military."

He waits. Daunted by what's being said.

"Why is that?" Her eyes flash towards him as she drinks down the fry.

She leans forward almost theatrically, seemingly completely comfortable with his silence, "Military, I know you have run-ins with by the way….."

She winks at him and lifts from her seat. "Well. I have another show. It was great talking to you."

She leaves the empty plate for those hired to pick up but he saw her go to take it. He saw the muscle memory that comes from repetitive movements those like Lucius didn't have. He watched her fast thinking and on spot correction. He watched her as she walked away, leaving him completely confused, uncomfortable and in a state of between where he didn't move for a good few minutes.

…..

"Hello," He speaks into the ear of Lucius as he appears behind his friend.

"I could feel your aura booths away." Lucius's voice comes back just as quietly before he turns away from the presentation he was watching. Resting a hand on the back on the Severus's shoulder he guides him away.

Public but secure, Lucius would stop them in a quiet corner and he would turn to face Severus, the hand twisting on the man's shoulder as he steps out in front of him.

"Severus." Lucius breaths out as he looks out into the room. "We've been invited to an after party of sorts. Will you be attending with Narcissa and myself?"

"What time are we expected?" He questions passively even though Lucius never actually said he was invited.

"10 o'clock."

Severus passes a glance his way and Lucius picks up a question he sees written all over the sullen man's face. "We'll go to dinner, before that of course." He pats his shoulder. "If you come, we'll go to that place you love on, Billzmark."

The restaurant on Billzmark was indeed his usual first choice when Lucis was the one who would pay. A stone, underground restaurant set in a mine with echoing piano music and soul singing women. A beautifully dark place of stone and wooden panels, it was a favorite of Severus and Lucius knew it.

"Also," Lucius dips his hand into his robe. "I was granted permission to bring a plus one but…." He shrugs as his wrist flicks out, the envelope held between his fingers. "Narissa isn't a plus one. She's the only one."

Severus slowly takes the envelope and Lucius drops his hand.

"Try to pick a lass, will you?" Lucius pushed with his first steps away.

…..

He's slipped into the canopy of deep red heavy curtains, and he's found where she's set up to return to between shows. A squared tent just off the stage lit by just one light and with a desk, buro and storage chests. Here, he sits and waits and listens to her sale pitch again. He hears her finish and would have risen from any seat had he'd taken one, but instead, he slips more into the corner he's been standing in the entire time. He masks his face with his hair and shadows himself with the natural darkness of the tent as well as with his ominous aura so when she comes down the stairs, he's already waiting for her. He catches her off guard, it's true, even she knew he noticed it... But she recovers quickly in a fashion much like herself. Her weight shifts onto one foot and the foxish smile is back, dancing on her lips and twinkling her eyes.

"Mysterious messages," She starts quietly stepping towards him. "that lead to mysterious cafe settings, now arrive in the secret passings in private unexpected movements." She's approaching slowly, confidently, bravely, and with the tips of her flashy white teeth reflecting like fangs. He can't find it within himself to be able to explain what she's going, but it's the same thing she'd done before. Set off balance, he stands stiff as stone when she lands in front of him. Even his head doesn't tilt, it only cocks to the side like a vultures glare cast over its curved, beak.

Her finger lands on his chest and drags down to his sternum, "what have you for me my most shadowed stranger?"

He grins, and from his pocket he pulls out the invitation but doesn't give it to her. He knows this game and is quite adept so instead he places the envelope on the side table between them. No nod, no grin, no motion of accepting, he left as coldly as he would appear but he wouldn't leave the same way she had seen him; he'd walk.

…

He hated people.

He hated crowds.

He was what they called anti-social and there was only so much social he could handle.

The day at the investors market, the afternoon at dinner and admittedly, a pub...or two… and now they were here. Loud music, dancing, crowds, drinking and happy chatter. He was running low on tolerance and energy. His first indication of her would be her touch. Something he wasn't used to and would flinch involuntarily under because it had come without warning and he had come from a life of trauma. He's had a hard past, but it's something he tries not to show and hates when he does.

"Mysterious shadow stranger." Her voice cooed in the air between them as she slipped into view from behind him, her hand trailing on his back as she came around him.

He doesn't look at her and he keeps his hands together in front of him, one hand clasped on the wrist of the hand that holds his glass. Her hand though, it touches the space between his body and his arm, and this time when he moved, it wasn't because he flinched. Her hand doesn't stay though, she drops her hand and he lowers his arm back against his side that he had just slightly opened for her, ignoring the rejection as he watches Lucius dancing with his wife.

They say nothing for a long time but it isn't a time where he feels uncomfortable or that the air between them is strained. It's somehow warm and he's only more relieved when she asks him if they wanted to go hang out in the hall.

Hang out.

That's the phrase she chose to use with him and he wasn't sure if that was intentional or not but he'll oblige and follow her out of the room, unaware of the eye of Lucius who catches him doing so.

Those fancy couches that sit in the empty, dim lit halls of expensive party halls were made for moments like this. Moments for strangers in dark spaces where they can know won't be intruded on. She knew the building so well that when she moved she moved through the halls in a fluid motion of experience. Again, this is new for him, but he had followed her and now they were here. He slows to a stop and she takes a slow step through the hall before turning to face him.

"Super secret conversations and anonymous meetings have to lead to shadow passed messages and sophisticated ballroom parties." She smiles that fox smile that skipped his heart."What comes next?"

He knows that look within her eyes and fangy smile and he'll step closer and closer which only makes her smile turn that much darker. With a step away from him but no change to her expression, she'll drive him to a place he wants to push towards. With his hand, he'll grasp her with the firm touch he knows she wants and as his palm falls over her collar his fingers wrap around her throat like snakes. She likes it, he knows that because when he presses into her, she backed away and into the wall so willingly. Once her back touches the wood of the wall he'll tilt himself where he's blocking the escape but will land his list hand in the pose of what would be a smack, he lands his hand gently on the opposite side of her jaw and pushes her head to the side so that she's watching down the way they came. It's her job to watch, and it shows a trust he doesn't want to give her.

"Who are you to play such games?" He whispers gruffly into her ear as his cheek pressed against her and his breath warms her skin.

"I am that who plays with shadows." She responds through a tightened throat; not only from him but her own rising heat he takes in with every breath.

"But what draws you to such evil things?"

Her hands are still free and now her finger wraps around his belt loop, something he wouldn't allow and would quickly move to prevent. He snaps his hand around his wrist like a snake around prey and he slams her hand above her head.

"You don't touch me." He informs with well-practiced authority.

Whether or not she believes his charade of wealth that he'd never actually claimed to have, he doesn't know. But, she knows her place as well as what she likes. He can feel her fingers loosen and can almost hear the racing of her heart. But this is all just a tease. Everything from the fact they both know such things will not happen here, to the fake placed smiles and expensive people in the room they both don't want to be in. His fingers wave over her jugular and his grip tightens for a moment as he thinks. Control over everything is the name of the game here. Control over being too happy, control over being too expressive… His hand drops and Severus backs up a fair step.

"What's your name?" He asks her.

"We will have no names" she whispers with that foxish grin.

He looks her over and watches her move off the wall.

"You're so odd." he turns with her circle as she moves around him.

"You're so obscure." She smiles, touching his biceps this time as she passes by as she starts down the hall.

He watches her for a moment before asking, "does that make me memorable?"

She stops and turns against to face him. "We'll see."

She takes out her wand and presses the tip against her forehead. A moment passes before she pulls the tip away and with it, a silver string of memory that she waves in the air. It was like she knew him, like she knew his potion master's mind because in fact, yes, he did have an empty vial with which he pulls out for her to take. She taps the memory into the vial before putting her wand away and handing it back.

"Come, we should get back." Her hand extends open for him and he takes it, though will not keep it. Her hand will slip up his arm and fall into that crevice he had offered her before and together they would walk down the dimly lit hall back towards the party they both don't want to be at.

…..

.


	2. A Foggy Forest Fire Feeling

The memory within the jar was of a house he'd never been to in a part of the city where he knew. It was a muggle apartment building; brick, six stories, a steel frame glass door in the front on the top of three stone steps. Flat faced, the area around it is either dead grass or cracked tar. There's a parking lot in the corner, but the land is muggle and around him was cars, electric yellow lights and excited phone chatter. The land was dark and the sky was cloudy as it was a normal English night with a normal, occasional gust of chilly, damp wind. He knew to come at night, but did not know which night, but knew to come around midnight because that's what the clock read he was sure he'd being seeing at some point.

Memories were like that, especially those most recent.

He approaches the door and sees her through the glass right away. She's standing in the entryway wearing a black, hooded traveling trench coat that blocked out much of her other features. The room is small and square with dirty yellow walls, cracked floor tiles and a wall of metal boxes Severus assumed was the mail. There's another door that leads into the hall and that's where she's standing, hand on the handle, the door cracked open, a smile on her face, eyes on him. He doesn't get to say anything because she quickly turns and starts away, through the threshold and allowing the door to fall back into its auto lock position, but he'd move fast enough to catch the door and follow her into the dim lit, brown-carpeted hall and would follow the edges of her heels up the stairwell she quickly disappeared into. Halfway up he hears the sound of the heavy door opening and slows down, fixing himself before stepping in front of her again. He didn't want to come off as disheveled as he felt. By now he would have called out the name and told her to stop, but he didn't know her name so instead he just followed her, waiting to say something…. anything when he had the chance.

"So, for such a mysterious person, I'm also quite daft." She sighs defeated as she lands against the wall beside a specific one door that matched the rest. "I meant for this to be something special and awesome, but I've locked my keys inside and I appear to be unable to get in.

Keys. His head nearly shook in surprise. The last time he ever used a key was… when he was a teen and his flat still belonged to his parents.

"You don't seal your locks with spells?" He tests her.

"I do, I know those but this also requires a key slip. If you could just..." She nudged her head towards the wooden panel, "I won't have to lie."

"You want my help?"

"I would surely be indebted." She smiled at him and his defenses must have fallen because he stepped up to the door and used the strongest, black magic based breaking spell which would unfortunately crack the door, but was silent and quick.

"You must think me foolish." She sighs as she immediately starts through the home, not pausing to take her shoes off or even her bag. "And I assure you," Her voice is getting quieter and quieter the further and farther she got away from him. "We aren't staying here long."

Severus had slowed when a familiar knowing enveloped him. A feeling he learned to listen to years ago had returned to his stomach and brought to his attention the inconsistencies of the past few minutes. He felt nothing around him that reminded him of her. He himself had his own feeling he left, and you could find that feeling in places like his own flat and his office and Hogwarts. Everyone left a path of themselves within their homes… but this home… was quite out of place. Two, for being on her own property her voice is very quiet and even now, at only 20 years old did he notice such a strong red flag. The way she rushed off, the way he was never welcomed, this felt more like an event with Lucius than one he would be having with this woman. She was gone, but not for long and like she said before she vanished, she'd be back. He heard her approaching because she was still talking as she turned the corner of the living room.

"Anyway, that's all just pointless political mumbo-jumbo." She shrugged.

He notices the way she clutches her side bang in a fist but he doesn't say anything as she starts back to the door.

"Come on. I got what I needed, I have somewhere else to show you."

He looked through the still darkened home and then back at the woman who left through the front door without another word or yet a name. He stands uncomfortably in the silence of the entryway for another few seconds before turning to leave, figuring it to be the best thing to do in any situation. She was keeping his busy again, keeping him moving so quickly that he didn't have time to ask questions. At this point he was less than surprised when without him or not, she's slipped away, down the stairs, out the door and down the black tar driveway he had just ascended alone only a few minutes ago. Severus is not a man for pointless or confusing things and this raises an anger inside of him that he doesn't know where exactly to send. He apparates from the hall and lands in front of her outside, close enough to where she almost walks into him as well as close enough where she has to stop walking altogether.

"You could be less rude." He pointed out.

"I'm sorry." She breathes out, but he watches her eyes twitch to one side.

Red flag three is how uncomfortable she is right now. How fast she's moving to leave. Her eyes give her away and he does what he most often would not do. He steps out of the way.

"Where are we going?" He asks her.

"Home."

He looks behind his shoulder but she shakes her head no. "My home. At least, that's where I'm going. You're free to follow, though."

The black mist of appreciation fades her away and left behind is a scrap of paper that lays in the tar with the address she would be returning too witten on it in black ink. His jaw tightens and his fist flexes, crushing the paper. This is it, he promises himself. This is the last time. He promises himself this as he fades from the spot, leaving the city sidewalk empty again as now is not a busy time and no one had seen what has just transpired. He follows her magic trail and lands in the country at a completely new place than he hadn't expected. He quickly notices that she sees him and is waiting this time, just a few steps ahead, but still waiting. The home is brick and circular and reminds him quite a bit of a resident style mirror of Hagrid's hut. Just larger. The field is like the same, and there is a breeze so he can imagine there is also a lake nearby. If it wasn't so dark and the moon wasn't so covered by such threatening clouds, he could have seen the canoe against the stone.

"Come on. It's going to rain."

Again, she has him moving but he has been drenched in the heavy rains enough times to know it doesn't bother him more than this entire event. She turns and he grabs her arm.

"No."

So she stops, turns and stares at him.

"You need to tell me what all of that was."

"It was nothing," she shrugged, both with her shoulder and in attempt to get out of his grasp he held tight. She moved like a fox trapped in a bite catch. Like a pull just gentle enough would somehow slither her out of its teeth with as little of pain possible.

"What is this place?" He directed her words.

"My home." She stopped fighting and dropped any tension, ready to tell him what she knew he was going to ask.

"Where were we?"

"Not at my home."

"Whose home was that?"

"A friends."

His eyes narrowed and his teeth grit.

"What did you steal?"

Her face flashed angrily in a suddenness he didn't expect. She yanks her arm out of his grasp, "You can't steal the already stolen if it belonged to you in the first place."

She didn't invite him with her she just went up to the front door of her home and he had followed, trying to find something to say to her without even knowing her name which, for some reason, put him on more of an edge than anything else.

He arrived inside the round home in time to see her pull from the bag a statue that she placed on her bookcase in a spot that looked like to had been waiting for its object to return. He watches her smile at it as her hands pull away. In a rush of _her_ the jacket is off, the boots kicked into the corner and she even changes her clothing to baggy but appropriate nightwear to be worn in front of a long time friend with a flick of her wand. But he wasn't a long time friend… they had just met and he, again, felt uncomfortable as she shuffled towards the stove in rabbit slippers whose ears were tipped with little bells that quietly jingled with each step.

"Why do you do this?" He asked but she wouldn't respond until the teapot was on the old fire burner stove that was lit with a strong flame below it.

She turns, and he sees the foxs smile had returned to her lips.

"I want to say thank you for your help. That trophy is enchanted with work I have done. I couldn't use my own magic because…. It would have been traced to me… I'm actually working on something for that!"

She went from thankful, to cloudy, to firecracker excitement all in one turn he rarely has experience with, so he's quiet and stands in the same spot a few steps from the front door as she shuffled off.

The hut was very much like Hagrid's but had a second bedroom in a hall. This was where the restroom was, he assumed, as well as her bedroom and as he waited, he looked around the familiar setting. A living room by a hearth, a kitchen with a round wooden table under a bright light… it all felt somehow so comfortable as if he had been here before. But he hadn't, he had been at Hagrids hut periodically through Hogwarts and even then it was quite a comfortable. It was very safe to say the least.

She's back in the room and her white teeth flash behind a new grown smile.

"You're doing that thing again." She mentioned and all he wanted to do was snap at her.

He, was doing "that thing" again? He bit that back and instead said the calmer, "doing what?"

She drops a smaller wooden box onto the kitchen table, "That thing.. Where you just stand there and somehow go from, entering willingly, to that sort of standing you see in horror movies."

"That sort of standing?" He felt denser than a brick, but had started feeling daft far before this point.

"Yeah." She sighed.

It was not the sort of sigh where someone is getting sick of you. He knows that sigh as he knows the sigh she released. The sigh she gave was like the noise you'd give a puppy that just stumbled off the couch. She places the box on the table before fluidly approaching him which straightened his back and stiffened his shoulders.

"You do this..." her hand waved him over. "It's like you're a Vampire... or a stone gargoyle... With your, I stand in the shadows and don't speak type of thing.. It's like you're out of a book of broken people or something."

He watches her and followed her fingernail as it flicked out and pointed at his shoes.

"Take those off, and come over to the table. I want to show you something."

Bumping from one topic to the next like a skipping rock over a calm pond surface, he was sharpening to her and almost expected this. Anyway, he'll oblige against his discomforts and remove his shoes as she walked away.

…

Why did sitting in his socks feel so strange for him? His attention is mostly on that question as he sits at the table. His leg twitches uncomfortably as all he thinks of is his socks upon the cold floor. Fox... he'd call her for the sake of needing a name, had her back to him and was currently fixing tea for the both of them. This was too familiar… Not in the scene where he was, but the situation was a situation he couldn't place and therefore didn't understand where the anxiety came from.

That's the way some memories were. Especially the old ones.

He wants to put his shoes back on but not because he wants to leave, but just because it would make him feel more comfortable.

"Answer me something." He finds his voice at least and days later.

"What's up?"

A teacup and saucer land in front of him and the clinking is louder to him than she would ever hear it because with it came a sense of heavy realization. He never watched her make the tea… Paranoia… a normal growth of strain from potions mastering and a residue from being apart of what he was any other time but now… He always watched people who made what he would put into his body… Even Lucius… He swallows into a dry throat as he stares at the tea, but also feels her watching him and knows when he looks up that the foxish smile will be there.

"Check this out."

She doesn't bring attention to his quirks and failures, she just moved on to something better. From the small box she pulls out what looks like a Split wand handle casing, a see through glove of some sort, a wooden board, and a black ring.

"Here's the idea." She starts as he listens, her excitement so warm he can feel it. "The ability to use your own wand and your own magic, but leave a trace of someone else."

His interest is perked and she sees it.

"Are you interested?"

"I don't know anything about _it."_ He speaks slowly, almost bored…. Almost insultingly.

"Take a sip of your tea, and I'll tell you."

He looks at her, then glances down at the cup he had yet to touch, then again back up at her again. "Why?"

"Do it."

His face twitched the anger of being ordered.

"Come on," she pressed. "Peer pressure. Do it."

"Why?"

"Because it shows me you trust me."

Trust is an argument that he doesn't want to have and instead he sighs and shakes his head.

"Tell me why you needed me to break the lock." He asks.

She stared at him before her own brows furrowed. "I already did." She waves her hand over the gear she had laid out and Severus felt himself take another step into his dark hole of daftness. He had reasoned this before but had forgotten to think before he spoke. He felt like he was running almost an hour behind the real world.

She drinks her tea and shrugs, again, ignoring what others would mention. "You're doing it again. But this time you look like a robot."

"A robot?"

"A robot." She concluded. "Stiff back, landed forearms to the table, straight necked, inky black eyes that make you think you're looking into the emptiness of space."

"Space isn't empty."

"Some spots are. And the parts that are busy, are all lit by the dead and dying anyway."

His brow twitched and he raised the cup. "That's quite morbid."

"That's what we have in common. Anyway, check this out." His eyes would stall on her even after she looked away. She was still talking, so he looks from her and down to the table at what she was explaining.

"Here's the idea. Well… three ideas but all with the same goal, to be able to alter the identity of the spell caster. As you know," She motioned to him, "Magic is only strongest when using the wand that chooses them. Well," She puts out between them the wand case. "This is the Dragon Heart String, and is the first core of my first wand." Apparently, there was a small chamber against the handle cover where she slides in the core into before she goes back to the box and takes out an old beaten wand.

"This, is my brother's wand, though given to me willingly, the wand will not take me." She takes the wand by the handle and slips it into the case. The handle is fully covered and the case moves up a bit more than halfway. "Until it doesn't know it's self." She raises the wand which instantly responds as if it were hers on the first touch; with a wave of warm air and what Severus could take in as, a fruity, autumn smell.

She's over the special event and lands everything on the table, quickly moving on. "I lined up the case to go as high as the wand, which, was pretty high, but still the job will get done of taking over a wand."

She talks about what she had just done while putting together her next show, which is perfect for him because he didn't want to say anything anyway. She slides the glove across the table

"Oh. I need a volunteer for this one."

She pulls from her head a single hair and motions for him to put the glove that still lay on. Which he does, for reasons he's not fully sure of why. Gently, her fingers open his hand, his elbow lands against the table, and she's laying her hair across the palm of the slick, black magical fit-all glove that covered from the middle of the wrist, up to the tip of his middle finger. He watches as the hair dissipated into the glove, almost looking as if it were eaten.

"Okay," She smiled. "Crack with wood, with your magic."

He takes his wand and casts a weak spell against the wood, but strong enough to crack it which makes her smile and pull out her own wand.

"Entractus Revelous."

A blue light slithers from the tip of her wand and glides towards the broken board. The soft glowing blue would fill the broken space and then would drip away back into the air, now as a single strand waving towards the air at the woman whose eyes brightened brighter than any sun.

"That was your spell, on your wand… but that magic says I did it." She explained in case he was daft and would miss this as well.

"That's truly remarkable, Ms.." He falters as he forgets he has yet to gain her name. "...It... just seems so practiced and perfected I wonder why you didn't just use this on your excursion instead of getting me unknowingly involved." HIs voice is tempered and short, a rattlesnake warning for those around him.

"Oh, I just wanted to know if you would."

The answer blunt and so easily said as if it were nothing, but she's quickly there to change the topic as he placed the glove on the table that she took place with the rest of everything back into the brown box he'd watch her lock.

"Also, it's not….. Cleared by the ministry yet and I'm not… prepared to try this in a real-time event."

He feels the spark that had come into her eyes many times since they first saw each other. She was a deviant, much like he, and was one with a wire walking life like this. His hands come up and entwine in front of his mouth with his elbows on the table.

"You're a very interesting woman.." He almost continues because normally he would add a name.

"And you're a person who is very interesting, indeed."

The tea is almost gone now. The box is put away and his leg is twitching again. He feels the room as what he's learned from her had driven him to expect something new to come. Some new task she'd jump and do, some new thing she'd want to talk about endlessly and without a break for his opinion. But she didn't. She just sat there, sipping her tea and enjoying the warmth it gave her. Her hair was messy now, her makeup on but worn over many, many hours. The house is quiet for all but the ticking of the clock, from the clock he saw earlier and chose not to mention because it's the clock was from the memory and again he felt silly which made him only feel that much more frustrated. For perhaps the first time in Severus Snape's life, he can't fucking stand the silence.

He hates it so much that he hits his fist on the table and raises from his seat. "What are you doing?" He asks her sharply but not too loudly, only loudly enough because they were in an otherwise quiet space. He asks her as if what she was doing was far more out of place than his own actions.

She gestures to her tea that she holds with two hands with wide eyes, "Enjoying my tea…"

Again…. He feels stupid and his fire is instantly quenched when, without a hand motion or spell, the radio turns on.

"I need background sound to..." She says quietly as she takes a sip of tea.

"Your mindless rattle is the background noise." He says stiffly, still angry for no reason but simmering nonetheless.

She just smiles at him, which makes everything that much worse.

"Such a fox." He bites with a wave of his hand. "Everything I know of you is games and weaponry."

"Are you having fun?"

He pauses, not expecting the question.

"Pardon?"

"Are you at least having fun?"

So, this is a game?"

"No… Not all of it... But I'm interested if the time you've spent has been enjoyable."

"You drive me insane." He spits but her smile doesn't break.

"You can't be insane if you know you are."

His head cocks, "I suppose that true."

"And you can't be insane if you don't do the same thing over and over."

"I've always followed." He muttered, glancing off into the kitchen.

"But have you gotten the same expected results every time?"

He stares at her now, fully and honestly and in total confusion all behind a breaking mask of muted darkness. He tries to think things through before he speaks because he didn't truly know how to answer the last few questions of hers.

"No."

"If this was a game.." Her finger taps on the table. "Could I assume you're enjoying it?"

He looks her up and down.

"What's _this_?"

" _This_?" The wicked smile is back. " _This,_ is a beautiful anomaly built within a dark world of expectation and pre-built agendas. These brief moments we share are the static glitches between the events of the normality in our everyday lives.

"I… I still don't even know your name."

Her hand is on the table and open for him, the black, metallic looking band ring is on her thumb; a move he hadn't seen her do, but upon second glance it is indeed off the table where he remembered it sitting.

"Come on."

He promises himself this will be the last time he'll do what she says even though he already promised himself that earlier. With a heavy sigh, his hand is on hers, but he'd vanish the moment their skin touches.

He's suddenly on a train platform. One where there's a forest around you and gravel below you. It's a train station that only has a wooden shelf above the heads of those who would be waiting, and a flat wooden notice board with worn pages whose edges twist with the wind. He's too far to see what they say or to know if they were of muggle or magic origin. An abandoned looking station, or just one that's just not currently occupied. He looks around and he's sure now he's alone but along with that, is the realization she's not here either. She moved him.. Magically and fully controlled, his apparition had brought him here and she had kept him coherent. As well as with his shoes on. But with that thought comes a slightly darker realization. The realization he had no further connection with her or knew of a single way to find such a woman. He looks around, suddenly quite somber and expressionless. His hands are slipped into his pockets and with a final look around, the apparates to his home in Spinner's End, determined to sort the last few hours out logically in the silence of his personal dwelling.


End file.
